A Review ofLusting For Infinity:a spiritual odysseyby Tom W. Boyd

Why religion?

Throughout human history, it appears that we have been driven to believe
in something, whether that be an established faith, or some form of subjective
mysticism. Whether organized or not, this impulse to believe in something
higher than oneself has been prevalent from perhaps even before the dawn of
civilization. In his engaging fictionalized study, Lusting for Infinity: A Spiritual Odyssey, University of Oklahoma
Kingfisher Chair Emeritus, Tom W. Boyd undertakes to explore possible explanations
for what he calls humanity’s “Primary Impulse” towards religious sentiment.

In the interests of full disclosure, I must confess that I have a long
established professional and personal relationship with Dr. Boyd, as it was he
who stoked the flames of my youthful philosophical enquiry, leading to my
professional interest in the field. Nonetheless, I shall endeavor to bracket my
bias, as he so well taught me, to provide an honest and balanced review.

The book itself takes the form of a journal of sorts, following our
author/protagonist, Tom, as he undertakes a pilgrimage into the high plains
wilderness of northern New Mexico. To avoid confusion, I shall refer to “Tom”
as the first-person protagonist of the story, and “Boyd” shall designate when I
am referring to the author. Loosely based on actual encounters, events and
conversations, the structure is composed of an ongoing narrative of Tom’s
external adventures and internal musings. This format flows easily for Boyd,
and seems a natural outgrowth of his teaching style, which combined pedagogy
with entertaining personal anecdotes to illustrate the principles being shared.

The plotline of Tom’s backpacking vision quest to understanding the
personal longings of his soul serves as an able vehicle to carry Boyd’s own
theories. But Lusting for Infinity is
much more than just another “buddy story,” recounting the adventures of Tom and
his friends in the Pecos backwoods. It also explicates a good many important
Philosophy of Religion, Ethics, and Religious Studies concepts along the way,
providing personal, and sometimes intimate, examples of how these concepts and
distinctions are played out in living human experience.

Tom chews on some tough existential questions on the nature of human
finitude with a variety of interesting characters, beginning with his
PTSD-troubled Viet Nam veteran friend, Ethan, and including representatives of
both indigenous and modern religious traditions, exploring many perennial
philosophy of religion questions literally from the inside out. The story is
engaging, if a bit slow moving due to the many conceptual excursions, with the
other characters eliciting from Tom explanations of many typical philosophy of
religion dilemmas, as well as Tom’s own musings. The story element is clever,
well written and the characters fun, fascinating and thoughtful.

Boyd claims humanity characteristically holds an intense internal
longing to transcend our frailty and finitude, which the existential origin of
all religious forms, what he calls the “Primary Impulse.” We reach for
transcendence once we recognize the extent of our contingency and limitations. It
is this subjective experience of being aware of one’s boundedness that is both
the root and solution to our many problems of religion.

Boyd asserts that it is when we deny or ignore the fundamental fact of
our finitude that we fall into what he calls “idolatry,” whether it religious
or secularly manifest. The problem lies with our fear of dissolution in the
vastness of the infinite, so we cling to forms, trying to cut the cosmos up
into easily digestible bites. We call this cutting up process “religion.”

At its best, Boyd contends that religion (of whatever variety) provides
humanity with a framework and worldview, allowing individuals to form an
understanding of their place within the cosmic order – in other words, a Big
Picture. Through the use of symbol, myth, ritual and community, formal
religions grant individuals a broader context within which to understand and
harness their personal encounters with the infinite.

But at their worst, formal religions can forget or deny that they exist
only through the medium of error-riddled humanity, and although religious
dogmas may concern the infinite, they do not by any means control the infinite
nor can the limited human understanding fully comprehend the unlimited. Yet,
formal religion absolves and ameliorates our horror of the abyss through
distraction, denial and by deviating us from the anxiety of an encounter with
the infinite, allowing us to feel safe and secure in a created world peopled
with others like us. In this way, formal religion provides maximal stability
and continuity, even at the expense of becoming trapped in dogma, aggression,
and exclusion.

Relying on established Religious Studies findings, Boyd notes that it is
the monotheistic religions that have the greatest potential to degenerate into
absolutism and the denial of other religious forms. Monotheistic religions such
as Christianity and Islam traditionally both make claims to be the single
legitimate (and therefore, ultimate) form of religion, with an exclusive
relationship to the infinite, thus challenging the right of other religions to even
exist. These dangerous claims have been used to justify exclusion, aggression,
forced conversion and even genocide throughout human history.

Although Boyd does acknowledge the need for a new way to construe the
limits of any and all religions, he does not address how this foundational
belief, when pushed to the extreme and understood from a literalist, objective
perspective, has given rise to religious fundamentalism, extremism and
terrorism, especially in areas destabilized by recent western military
interventions, such as Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya. Although such an
exploration would give added timeliness and even greater dimensionality, it is
understandable why it was left out of the book’s scope, for one could easily
write an entire volume on this topic alone (and many other authors already
have).

Boyd discusses the paradox of religion, which finds its original impulse
in direct personal experiences with the infinite beyond all human control or
understanding, but which then attempts to conquer and tame the wildness of that
subjective experience through the imposition of established symbols and
interpretations, locking up the passion of infinite longing inside linguistic
cages.

When considering the origins of religion in human societies, Boyd notes
that one can either approach the subject from a historical, external model,
such as we find in the academic study of religion, which looks at religion as a
phenomenon situated within concrete times and cultures; or one can take a more
existential approach, in which what is sought is not who, when, where and how,
but rather the toughest of all philosophical questions: why?

In academic research into religions, the study of external practices,
rituals and symbols are considered sufficient to gain an adequate understanding
of any particular religion. Boyd refutes this, claiming that only through
participatory engagement with a religion – though actually trying to understand
the subjective experience of practitioners – can a true picture of a religion
be gained. Boyd argues for an empathic engagement with the phenomenon of
religion itself, a recognition that the religious sensibility is a common human
foundation upon which we can build. The existential experience is found in all
religions, regardless of how any particular religion should manifest.

As the world grows more secular, Boyd cautions against the institution of
secularism as a new religion, for governments and political parties can just as
easily suffer from the same hubris as formal religions when they ignore the
human capacity for error and limited vision.

The Problem of Evil, and the various apologetics it has spawned, is a
mainstay in the fields of ethics, the philosophy of religion and religious
studies. Boyd gives a nod to the topic, but again, does not delve deep, as the
many permutations of this dilemma beyond the reach of this work. Yet, Boyd’s
cursory discussion does relate back to his thesis that human-caused evil is
rooted in our denial of human limitations, especially when we fail to recognize
our own capacities for error and cruelty. This observation carries many implications
for our own current dilemmas, which again, Boyd does not pursue.

Religion is humanity’s attempt to transcend human finitude, according to
Boyd, but it is prone to the same failings and pitfalls as any limited human,
for the finite cannot encompass the infinite. We see this when religions fail
to acknowledge their own limits and barriers to understanding.

We live in a unique era, when we are no longer fated to hold the same
beliefs as our ancestors or ambient culture. Rather, we now can choose from a
veritable smorgasbord of beliefs. Boyd addresses the challenge of other
worldviews when Tom encounters indigenous Native American and Rastafarian
believers. This liberated capacity for conscious choice of worldview carries
the burden of the necessity of choice. As Gabriel Marcel noted, not only must
we choose, we must keep on choosing and live with the consequences of those
choices, whether we want to or not.

Modern secular culture separates the sacred and religious aspects of life
from physical and social matters, generally marginalizing religion in its focus
on developing the human capacity to manipulate the physical realm. Problems
arise when only secular options are recognized and engaged as live
alternatives. This leads to the suppression of the Primary Impulse towards
religious sentiments, resulting in the elevation of the secular into the
sacred. We see the backlash from this in the rise of fundamentalism and
religious extremists such as Al-Qaeada and ISIL, who demand a return to
traditional religious values and social forms supplanted by creeping
secularism. Again, a plethora of ethical, political and sociological
rabbitholes appear, but Boyd resolutely avoids the diversion, even whilst
calling our attention to the existence of the waiting trap on the trail.

It is when any field of human endeavor, whether it be a formal religion
or even science, claims to be The Penultimate Authority on What Is, that Boyd
says we have a problem, again, caused by the denial of human limitations. Boyd
cautions us to remember that the finite is incapable of capturing the infinite,
and therefore all human attempts at grasping the cosmic truth are likewise
limited. Although science has been spectacularly successful, it, too, is
bounded by human employment of symbols and processes, and therefore vulnerable
to misinterpretation, misconstrual and abuse.

An exclusivist approach, in which only one single worldview is considered
“true” or “real,” turns all non-believers into existential threats to be
converted, eliminated, or in some way silenced – preferably permanently. We see
this played out in the vitriol displayed in both national and global politics,
as well as debates over the efficacy of vaccines, the validity of global
warming, and so many other current issues that pis science against traditional
worldviews. Yet, some grounding for tolerance must be found if we are to
survive. In nature, ecosystems thrive on diversity, yet we short-sighted humans
seem to think that homogeneity will solve our intrinsic dilemmas, and promise
future security and prosperity – another trap of our all-too-human failure of
vision that Boyd identifies.

Boyd’s prescription for the many traps of human finitude is what he calls
“Inwardness,” a return and reconnecting to our own subjective experience.
Through our capacity to think (the “womb of religion” according to Boyd), the
author claims that we can transcend the limits of fleshy finitude. The gift of
human consciousness allows us to not only conceive of the infinite, but also to
discern our own bounded human condition, caught half-way between the infinitely
vast and the infinitely small. Following Kierkegaard’s lead, Boyd asserts we
must first move through our own shadowy despair at our limits, to purge our
addiction to form-making, before we are capable of the synthesis necessary to
transcend those forms.

Boyd advocates for what he calls the Transformational Approach to
religion as a religious maturity where both institutionally and personally,
religious practitioners are called upon to recognize and accommodate their own
potential for being wrong or at least limited in their understanding of their
universal claims. This view implies that most world religions (especially those
who believe in an absolute exclusive relationship with and understanding of
God) are stuck in a kind of spiritual puberty. This recognition of one’s own
and formal religions’ limits are both the process and marks of growing up.
Recognizing our own capacity for error means we can never be sure our findings
are absolutely accurate now and for all time. It means we must live with
annoying uncertainty that we could be wrong, and even worse, that our rival
could be right.

The engaging story and Boyd’s easy writing style draws readers into the
philosophical dilemmas, and helps to unpack dense concepts. Boyd shares
personal reminiscences from his life, including child and early adulthood
stories that students will readily understand and identify with. Dialogue
between characters, and personal flashbacks join with Tom’s inner musings to
take several perennial meaning-of-life questions to their deep theoretical
underpinnings, and then explores the adequacy of our personal and social
thinking processes.

Erudite and wide-ranging, Boyd goes down rabbitholes that many of us
ponder about the nature of humanity, reality and God in our youth. As such, it
makes a good resource for young minds, as it introduces many important
philosophical concepts from hard-hitters (in addition to those already
mentioned), such as Martin Buber, Rene Pascal, Aristotle, William James,
Meister Eckhardt, Teilhard de Chardin, Ludwig Wittgenstein, Emile Durkheim, and
many more. At 393 pages, it is too long for freshmen, although some cuttings
might be good for lower divisions.

Chapters 21 and 22 might make good readings for upper division philosophy
of religion, ethics or religious studies courses. This would be a good
supplemental book for graduate level students, as well as upper division
students, as many basic concepts of philosophy of religion, ethics, religious
studies and sociology are explicated. Deeper underlying ontological issues,
such as the objectivity-subjectivity divide, are dwelled upon at length.
Seminaries and religious study groups with no prior academic philosophy
background would find the book very fruitful.

Overall, an enjoyable, if somewhat long (by today’s standards) read. It
could have benefitted from a greater application to current world events here
and there, but that might have bogged down the book’s readability. The book’s
academic usefulness is diminished slightly by the lack of an index or
bibliography, but any technical terms used are well-defined at the site of
their employment. Throughout, Boyd eschews the overuse of technical jargon and overly
fine-grained distinctions, while still providing a clear explication of the
concepts under consideration.

Lusting for Infinity joins
other venerated philosophical teaching novels, such as Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael, and the twentieth century classic,
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,”
by Robert Pirsig, in helping to make complicated philosophical and moral
conundrums understandable to non-philosophers. Lusting for Infinity is especially delightful for those with a
philosophical background, both because of its breadth of notable philosophical
references, and the author’s incisive analysis that cuts through the fog of
specialized jargon and convoluted explanations to seek an intuitively
satisfying, intellectually rigorous, and comprehensive account for the
universal phenomenon of human religion.

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